


All We Have Is Now

by orphan_account



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-08
Updated: 2012-04-08
Packaged: 2017-11-03 06:38:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/378421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matthew doesn't want Lavinia any more. It feels as if no one does. But Lavinia is wrong. Someone does want her. Alternate ending, set in Ep 5 of S2. Mary x Lavinia/Marynia</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Lavinia POV_

__All I could hear were my own sniffles in the silence. The pitiful, unforgiving silence.

This room I was in didn’t feel like home. It felt safe, and familiar, but not home.

All I could think of was what had happened. What he had said. How he had dismissed me, disposed of me.

“Lavinia?” Mary’s voice called through the door. Oh no… I hadn’t shut it. How foolish, while I cried with no thought of who might hear. My heart near stopped at her voice, and she stepped into my room.

Was it silly, even stupid, that the very sight of her made me want to cry harder? I was aware, all of a sudden, of how little I wore, the skin of my naked arms, although warm, I suddenly felt a shiver. I pulled my wrap up around me, I just wanted to hide, but it slid over my skin and down my arms. I pulled it over myself again, this time it stayed.

“You’re back,” I felt so glad she was, although I still felt completely desolate, “How did you get on?”

Mary’s eyes were cautious as she spoke, “All right, I think…” I had to press my hand to my mouth, for fear I would cry out, and she looked at me closer, she appeared concerned. How many times had she been there for me when I cried…?

“How about you?” her words were so careful, although she seemed to dread my answer.

“Matthew’s told me to go home,” how pathetic did I look to her, sobbing over a man who no longer cared for me, “He says he won’t see me again.”

Mary did not move, she didn’t even speak for a moment. The words were now leaving me by themselves, I said what had happened, “He feels he has to ‘set me free’ as he put it.”

Mary still said nothing, and I couldn’t stop the tears, couldn’t stop my own voice, “I’ve tried to tell him I don’t care, but he won’t listen.”

Mary took a step towards me, her face was sad, “Then you must keep telling him.” she reached out to me for a moment, but then withdrew her hand, her hand I so longed to hold in my own…

I had to tell her. I couldn’t tell anyone else.

“Yes, but you see, it isn’t just not walking.” My throat was dry, and I gasped.

Mary was once again silent, her eyes spoke for her.

“Today he told me we could never be lovers, because all that’s gone as well. I didn’t realise…” I hadn’t, I had been so dim, foolish…

I looked up to see Mary, her eyes were wide, she must think me foolish too, how could I not have known?

“It’s probably obvious to anyone with a brain, but I didn’t realise.” his spine, his lower half, how could I have not realised?

“No…” Mary’s words were a sigh as she sunk onto the bed, “No, nor did I.”

“And he feels it would be a _crime_ to tie me down. To tie down any woman to the life of a childless nun,” my voice was failing, I swallowed, my heart was racing in my chest, “He thinks I’d hate him in the end.”

Mary’s back was all I could see, that and her face, just her cheek, the room was deathly quiet. Perhaps she was shaken by what I had said, taken aback by this turn of events, by what I spoke of.

I pulled the wrap over my shoulders again, it had slipped, but it only fell back to the bed, “I’m sorry if I’ve shocked you, but there’s no one else I could talk to about it, and when you came in…” I tugged the wrap back over me once more, Mary had turned to me as I spoke, and shook her head.

“I’m not shocked.” I looked up, and saw tears in her eyes, “I’m just stunned, and desperately sad.” she was now speaking in gasps, her chest heaved with each breath she took.

“No one wants me,” I cried, looking back to the blankets, “He didn’t so much _let me go_ as pushed me away…” Had Matthew tired of her, and _let her go_ as he had let go of me?

Mary shifted closer to me, and placed her hand on my arm, “Lavinia…”

“What was it like for you?” I looked into her eyes, “when he left?”

She did not flinch, as I thought she would have, but only lowered her eyes, almost in shame, “I don’t regret any of that. There are things I wished never had happened, and some things I wish I had done differently. I know you have your own regrets…”

 _I_ flinched, as I remembered the scandal I had brought to light, even if I had had nothing to do with it, I had brought shame upon others, I _did_ regret things… I didn’t know if that was one of them…

“But never assume that you are not wanted, Lavinia. I know I feel unloved, I always have, if only I had been born a boy-” Mary closed her eyes, drawing back on this glimpse I had of her, she shook her head slightly, and opened her brown eyes, looking at me, “But you matter, Lavinia. You _are_ wanted… _”_

“Who do I matter to? Who cares for me, if not Matthew? He cast me aside without thought to my feelings, only his own interpretation!” I shook my head miserably.

No one else would care or listen. I was trapped in a world where no one heard me.

Mary’s hand softly caught my cheek, “Darling…”

My eyes rose to hers.

“ _I_ care, Lavinia.”

I won’t say it all made sense then, for nothing did. Not Matthew breaking off our engagement, not Mary’s words that meant everything to me and yet I knew not how she felt, only what she felt _like_ as her fingers stroked my cheek and she brought my face to hers, and my eyes shut, my heart slowing, my breathing quickening.

It wasn’t a reassurance, it wasn’t out of pity. Her lips pressed warmly against mine and I knew this meant something and I meant something to her, she otherwise couldn’t possibly have felt so inclined to kiss me without want to. All I felt _in_ me was want, pressing on my heart, as if just one touch and it was hers. Perhaps it had been all along. But this was now, this kiss was ours, and how could I ever know if there ever was to be another? Mary’s hand had slid down to my arm; her fingers resting on my bare skin… my wrap had fallen off my shoulders, and I let it. Mary’s arm that she leant on came to my face, her fingers stroked across my chin, trailing across my skin, and she rested her palm against my neck.

Our lips, her lips, my lips, pressed softly together, I could feel her eyelashes brush my cheek as she tilted her head, bringing her mouth to mine another way, I could taste her sweet lips… I felt my chest heave as I gasped, and from my neck, Mary shifted her hand, and swept my hair from where it rested against my back, the curls of my hair brushed against my chest.

The satin of her shirt brushed against my fingers, I had reached for her and found, touched her skin, and the collar of her shirt. Mary did not hesitate in her sweet, slow kisses and I felt nothing but desire, desire to touch, to feel, to be loved and wanted. Mary hadn’t stepped in, she had always been there, always for me, while I cried… shouldn’t I remain hers, hadn’t I always been?


	2. Chapter 2

_Lavinia POV_

I had pulled free the first button of her blouse, and the tips of my fingers were trailing down her chest to the lace of her slip. I could hardly distinguish the silk of her clothing from the silk of her skin, this I all found while blind, my eyes still shut, drinking her in…

My mouth left hers, how could I tear myself away, I pressed my lips to her cheek, my eyes opened, I could see the white of her, freckles across her skin, kissing where her jaw met her neck, and she clutched at me, holding me to her. I held her hand and turned it so her forearm faced upward. I kissed the bare skin of her wrist, and she sighed softly, faintly, her eyes still shut, and my lips at her arm, the scent of her perfume lingered on her skin.

How could so much not be enough?

I brought my mouth back to hers, the warmth, the taste of her- However bold it may be, I needed- I placed my hand upon her breast and she gasped against my lips, her sharp breath whispering, pressing herself into my hand, bringing her own hand to cover mine, the satin against my palm, our fingers linking together, she _must_ have longedfor this as I had. I felt her other hand slip into my hair, taking away the ribbon that tied it, her fingers dropping it to the bed. Her lips were then drawn away from my own. I opened my eyes.

Mary sat before me; her cheeks were pink, her eyes swimming in wanton darkness. Her buttons were undone, pulled loose by my fingers, and my eyes followed the soft curves of her breasts, until they were concealed by the shadow and silk of her slip. She breathed in deeply, and I looked up to her face, so close to my own. She had marked me, before we had even touched, her eyes held my own, her lips swollen from mine, my tears on her cheeks, I could _feel_ my heart breaking for her. Mary then shifted until she was next to me, sliding her body across the blankets, ducking her head as she moved over the bed. She was beside me now, sitting up, her legs folded next to mine, our knees touching. I reached for her leg, and I saw her eyes widen. My fingers brushed against her shoe, and I undid the buckle, slipping it from her foot. I dropped both shoes to the floor; the carpet muted the thump. I stroked up her stockinged leg, and she smiled as she leant into me.

Mary’s right hand was on my waist, she kissed me, and now her tongue slid against mine, and a strangled moan escaped me, my heart ached, though it was not all that ached for her. Mary laid her left hand gently on my neck; I could feel my pulse throb against her palm, my hand still rested on her leg, and I ran my fingers up her thigh, over the material, delighting in her shiver and came to her hip, though her skirt hindered my touch. I reached around her to the small of her back; my fingers found the button that held her skirt so tightly to her waist… and unfastened it.

I pushed the constricting material over her hip, and my fingers met silk, it slid against my hand, warm from her body. Mary’s lips parted against mine in a sigh, and she arched her back slightly, twisting against me. I gasped, a mixture of shock and desire shot through me, but I then realised she meant to free herself from the confines of her skirt. I grasped the fabric as Mary pressed herself harder against me, lifting herself off the bed as I slid the skirt over her hips, moving it down until the silk of her slip ended in edged lace, and my fingers brushed over her thighs, her skin was as pale as cream, and so soft. I had reached Mary’s knee, and then her foot. She pulled her feet free of the skirt and I pushed it away. She now wore only her slip, and her shirt over it, the buttons undone, but the blouse hung from her arms, and as I watched, she slipped out of it, and it fell from her shoulders to the bed without a sound. Mary watched me, smiling, and my eyes went to her legs. She still wore her stockings. I felt almost nervous about it, but I still reached for her and touched her knee.

Whatever permission I sought, she gave it as her mouth met mine, her fingers stroking over the back of my hand, my hand that was now rolling her stocking down her leg, my fingers slipping under the thin material and sliding it over her knee. My fingers reached up and pulled the clasp away from her hair, the soft brown locks fell out of their style and down her shoulders. I never knew how long her hair was, longer than mine. My lips still against hers, I broke our kiss, my breathing now shallow with nerves. Mary’s own breath blew gently against my neck, her forehead pressed to my temple, she sighed… The moment was slow, but in a way, instantaneous. Her legs were now bare, and my own lay next to them, an intimate thrill ran through me as our toes touched.

She was breathtaking as she sat next to me, her hair a curtain of chocolate silk that framed her face, and when I looked up, her dark eyes were burning.My hand still was against her leg, her skin felt cool against the heat of my palm, I was blushing fiercely, I felt it- I felt my heart pounding languidly, there seemed to be no one else in the world, let alone in Downton. No one but her. I took a breath, and felt Mary’s soft voice whisper into my ear.

“What now?” she breathed. I hardly needed to think to know how she felt, part of me was terrified, terrified of discovery, of judgement and slander, of scandal, but my unspoken desire for her filled me and I couldn’t find the want, let alone the will to stop. Mary was mine, I hers, even if only for this night.

My only answer was a kiss to her lips, not just to console, but to promise, and I kissed her neck, just under her ear, her earring brushed my lip. My palm was against her, I felt the hollow of her throat. I stroked my hand across her collarbone and to her arm, my fingers found her slip, just at her shoulder. Mary’s hand came over mine, our fingers linking for a moment before she dropped her hand to the bed, and the thin straps slid down her arms. The silk covered her a moment longer, remaining, and Mary breathed in once as I did, I watched her with wonder, her eyes closed, her head tilted back as she was unveiled, revealed, and the silk fell away from her.

I didn’t think, couldn’t, or if I did, of nothing but her, my fingers stroking across her, over her, and brushed against the warmth they had already felt, but not like this, never before like this, and never again. Her skin was impossibly soft, like the down of a feather. There were freckles across her chest, but they faded and disappeared as my eyes moved downwards, and all of her was pale and perfect. My palms stroked over soft lily white, my thumbs brushing over petal pink. Her lips parted, a whispered gasp left her, a sigh. I leant forward and passed my mouth over her chest in a kiss, her skin was soft as the flesh of a rose petal against my lips, her breasts rose and fell gently as she breathed, she was breathing in all I had.

My own breath whispered against her and tickled my lips, as my mouth was still pressed to her skin, loving her, worshipping her. Mary’s hands stroked through my hair, caressing gently, holding me against her just so. Her hand slipped under my chin, and I found myself looking into Mary’s eyes, her prisoner, her lover. Then she was kissing me, her lips addictive and sweet, I stroked my fingers along her slip that had fallen round her hips, it covered her, draped over, around her, and I trailed my fingers beneath it, over her thighs. A soft sigh from Mary’s lips as I found more of her, _felt_ more of her, my fingers met cotton, and Mary gasped sharply as she felt my hand against her, and beneath the material, she was on fire. I hooked my fingers into her drawers on either side of her hips, grasped the slip and slid them down her legs, over her knees, and pulled them away from her feet, dropping them to the side of the bed.

Mary lay before me, a goddess unclothed in my bed, her eyes shining deeply, as I watched; she reached for me and took my hand, bringing me closer, and I felt her hands upon my legs, pulling my nightgown up to my thighs, to my hips, her hands caressing my skin every time the material rose higher. I closed my eyes, my heart beating fast at the idea of her seeing me, and then she pulled it over my head and I was almost as naked as she. Almost.

Mary’s hands were then on my stomach, her fingers slid down the front of my drawers and my mouth fell open in a mute gasp, my drawers were pushed down my hips, and I bit my lip, my only veil from her now gone, and I was hers. I felt oddly free and leant over, laying myself upon her, her bare skin against my naked flesh.

I rested my hand on Mary’s thigh, stroking along delicately until I found her again, the place that made her near cry out, and this time was no different to the last. A breathless moan came from her lips, and I slid my fingers along her heated skin, stroking, and Mary’s hips jerked against my fingers, falling back to the bed, and she lay there, quivering.

“Lavinia…” she gasped, her hand against mine, bringing my fingers back to the place touching had affected her so, and I caressed her again.

I watched her as she whimpered, short, quick gasps from her mouth forcing her chest up against mine, I continued stroking her as she clung to me, gasping my name, and, as I leant on my other hand, I lowered my head to her breast and kissed her. Another gasp from Mary, and without thought, I slid my tongue over her breast, tasting her petal softness, and she began to tremble. In the next instant, I circled that spot at her centre with my fingers and Mary arched her back, shaking, forcing her body up against mine, her hips thrust into my hand, her hair cascading over her shoulders and over her back, she did not scream, though her neck was straining with the tension of it, but she said my name in a gasp, though it sounded like a sob.

“Lavinia…”

Her chest heaving, Mary sank back down to the bed, I could feel her skin burning beneath me, and she sighed breathlessly. I shifted, lying next to her, loving how utterly undone she was, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead, her dry lips parted, still gasping softly as she caught her breath. Her hand touched my thigh, and I glanced back to see her head turned to look at me, she closed her eyes briefly, her fingers stroking over my stomach, and slowly slid down…

The feeling that surged though me at the touch of her hand was indescribable; I thought my heart would stop as her fingers skimmed across the heat I felt, the heat that she created as she touched me, stroked me, the quick of me. My mind was racing as fast as my heart, yet I could think of nothing as I welled up within, throbbing with desire under her fingers. Her movements became quicker, and she pressed down upon that one spot ever so softly, I opened my eyes, I hadn’t realised I had closed them, and saw her, her brown eyes swimming in desire as she watched me… and I fell to pieces under her hand, under her gaze, shuddering and sighing, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out. Mary’s mouth came over mine, soothing, smiling as she kissed me, “Darling…”

From her lips to mine, I breathed in her words, every one. She said my name, whispered beautiful things, and I cried. For that was how all this began, with my tears, and this was how it would end. Would I leave tomorrow, and never come back? Would she stay here, or-? There was no chance I could ever forget her, forget this night. Tonight was all we had, this hour, this minute, this moment, and whether we were blessed or cursed, this was what we could keep. As I lay with her, forever hers, I knew she wouldn’t forget.

I cried as she kissed me, my heart tearing in two, and as she lay back, only to look at me, never to sleep, and I saw. Twined between the fingers of her hand, the hand she lay upon my stomach as she moved closer… the ribbon she took from my hair.

No.

She wouldn’t forget.

_~end_


End file.
